Lost & Found
by blacknails512
Summary: Magnus Bane had a more then tough past. When his best friend Ragnor makes him go to a therapy session, Magnus meets Dr. Alexander Lightwood. Will Dr. Lightwood be able to help Magnus, or just make things all the more difficult? Au/Ah Maybe lemons.
1. Therapy

**A/N- So this is a story I've co-written with TheFeatherQuill and mrs. jessica mellark (Her name is actually one word, but ffn won't let me do that!) It's 100% Malec! Enjoy!  
>Disclaimer- Nat, Jess and I don't own the Mortal Instruments series. Cassandra Clare *insert bowing fangirls here* owns it all. <strong>

_My dad's rough, calloused hand comes into contact with my cheek again. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears in my eyes, so I squeeze them shut, trying to find a spot in my mind not filled with terror and pain. He yells something at me but I don't hear him. I learned over the years to simply tune it out… I also learned that things never change._

_I wonder again what I did that made him so angry. It's probably my entire existence that upsets him… but I am only ten, what could I have possibly done?_

_He strikes me down again as I try to stand up. His foul breath washes over my face and I wince in disgust. Of course he's intoxicated; he is always drunk when he gets the most violent. A sharp pain threads through my head as the man who called himself my father drags me into a standing position by my hair. My heart races faster when he all but kicks me into the bathroom and next to the bathtub that suddenly seems like a porcelain object of fear. It's filled to the brim with steaming water and my mind goes blank._

_There's nothing else I can do once he forces my head under the water, so every time I manage to get above the lapping liquid I scream bloody murder, wishing, hoping, praying someone would come to my rescue. _

_As it turns out, that someone is my neighbor, who hears the commotion and immediately calls the police. I never meet her, but I am silently and eternally grateful._

*Twelve Years Later*

"Ragnor," I said for the third time, looking at my best friend in disdain. "There's no need for this; I'm perfectly fine."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling of his Porsche. "Yeah Magnus, you're perfectly fine," he said sarcastically. "You're also one hundred percent straight, a die-hard republican, and have an intense love for classical music."

Sighing, I crossed my arms and stared catatonically out the window. "Point proven," I muttered. "I just don't see why you're making me see your cocky psychologist friend."

"He's not my friend," Ragnor corrected. "He's my co-worker. And I'm making you go because you _need_ to."

"No I don't," I said stubbornly. "I've already told _you_ everything, why can't you examine my brain or whatever?"

"Mag, you know I'm not a psychologist," he said. "I work in a building with some psychologists though and I bet they could really help you out." He paused as we came to a stoplight and turned to me. "I'm worried about you."

"Well, you're my friend, not my life coach," I said to him. "I can handle my personal problems just fine on my own, thank you. Besides, if it took me years to open up to you, what makes you think I'm going to tell a perfect stranger?"

"Because I'm paying a shitload of money for your sessions," was his answer. "Now you're going and I don't care how you feel about it." I sighed as he parked the car and we both got out and made our way to the huge building he worked at.

This building was mostly for life coaches, marriage counselors, grief mangers, and dermatologists. It was a weird combination of professions but where else was New York supposed to put them? Anyone who lived within a thirty mile radius of the building went there for their issues. I lived alone with my cat in a nice Brooklyn flat and hadn't ever heard of the place until Ragnor brought it up. I still didn't want to go.

"You're acting like a child," he scolded when he had to literally tug me by my wrists into a stuffy looking office filled with the sounds of sad people. The sign on the door listed a name of the psychologist's there-

_Dr. David Allen Stern  
>Dr. Tessa Gray<br>Dr. Alexander Lightwood_

I looked to Ragnor, my expression questioning. "Which one of these am I going to?" I asked him.

"The Lightwood one," he said, shoving me into the room. "I tried to get you in with Dr. Gray so you wouldn't be distracted by the good looks of the other two. David is average but Alexander is quite a looker."

"I don't think I'll be looking at him anyways," I said melodramatically. "My eyes will be cast downward, staring at the bleak floor as I pour my feelings out in a wave of the horrible events I had to endure as a child."

Not even a chuckle from Ragnor, just a sigh. "Stop being such a drama queen," he muttered, ushering me down a narrow hallway.

"Was that a homosexual slur I just heard?" I said, sarcastically appalled.

"Stop stalling, Mag. Just go." He opened a door I hadn't realized we'd reached and pushed me inside before I got to say anything else. The last thing he told me was, "See you in an hour and a half!"

Sighing, I turned away from the door and saw a very young man, probably just out of college, sitting behind a large mahogany desk with papers and files cluttered amongst it. He had an unruly shock of black hair atop his head but somehow he made it work. I could barely see his face; he was looking down at a paper in his hands, but his skin was flawless.

He glanced up at me when I clicked the door shut and I think he almost did a double take. That didn't surprise me- I was wearing tight, electric blue skinny jeans, an equally tight rainbow shirt and a black vest over top. Ragnor made me leave my hair out of its usual spikes because he figured they could potentially draw blood if I were to force them upon people, so it was long and down, hanging to about my shoulders and falling over one eye. No one had to tell me that I looked damn sexy; I already knew how hot I was.

Yes, I'm conceited. There's nothing wrong with that.

"Uhm, hello," he said kindly, his voice squeaking ever so slightly on the last syllable. He cleared his throat and stood up to meet me near the door. "You must be Magnus."

I made a grunting noise that could have been accepted as a yes or a no and he reached out his lightly colored hand for me to shake. I took it gently and couldn't deny the fact that I liked the feeling of having his hand in mine.

"I'm-" he started.

"I know who you are," I said quickly and in an admittedly bitchy fashion.

Dr. Lightwood seemed a little taken aback for a moment but he quickly recovered and gestured to a comfy leather chair on the other side of his desk. I stayed standing but he sat at his desk chair. "Ragnor tells me you two are friends…" he said quietly.

"Yup."

"So what brings you here today?" he asked.

I shrugged and picked at my lime green painted fingernails. "Meh," I muttered. "Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" he asked imploringly.

I didn't answer his question but leaned over his desk to look him in the eye. "Listen," I said slowly. "Neither one of us wants to be here right now so I'll go and we can pretend like I talked to you, mkay?" Walking to the door before he got a chance to answer, I heard the slight scuffle of his chair against the carpet and he was next to me in a second.

"Mr. Bane," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to help you. Please sit down and let me do my job. Dr. Fell paid a lot of money to help you out, so unless you want to disrespect your friend, I'd greatly appreciate it if you would _sit down_."

One of my hands was on the doorknob and his hand was on my other wrist. I turned slowly and my eyes caught the gaze of his intensely blue orbs. They were every shade of blue imaginable, twisted and swirled into two circles of perfectness.

Call me kinky, but I liked the way his voice had sounded just then. It was firm and assertive and the startling color of his eyes made it all the more interesting. I cocked my eyebrow like I always did when I was a bit amused and his gaze wavered, his hand sliding off my wrist.

"Fine then," I said, sitting down in the leather armchair and crossing my legs. "Do your thing."

He sighed and cleared his throat, taking his seat as well. "Please," he started. "Tell me the main reason why you're here."

"Didn't Ragnor already tell you my entire life story?" I asked disgruntledly.

"We aren't that close," was his answer. "Just tell me what happened."

"Well, my father was physically and verbally abusive towards me and my mother, he ended up killing her, and my foster parents ignored me." As a second thought, I added, "Oh and I haven't been able to sleep through the night in four years."

He didn't speak for a minute but his expression remained the same. "Okay, that's a start," he said. "Care to elaborate?"

"Nope."

"Uhm, well, do you have any creative way to let your feelings out?" he asked.

"Like… coloring?"

"No, that's not what I meant," he said, making a teeny tiny sound that could have been a chuckle. Whatever it was, it was cute. "Do you sing or dance or paint? Play an instrument, maybe write poetry?"

"I can sing a little," I said. "But it hasn't seemed to help much."

"You want to try some Rorschach's?" he asked.

"You mean the dude from Watchmen?"

"Ink blots," he answered, reaching into a drawer in his desk. "Tell me what you think of when you see this." He held up a square piece of paper with black ink on it.

It could be described as nothing else but an inky explosion on paper. I decided to tell him that because he had asked so nicely. "Someone had an accident with their pen," I said bluntly.

He said nothing for a second before flipping it over and showing me a different ink blot. "What do you think now?" he asked.

"It's a blob," I said simply. "There's nothing else to it."

Another ink blot was shown to me and I tilted my head a little. It seemed like there could've been something there. "I don't know," I muttered. He began to flip it over but I stopped him with my next words. "Wait," I said. "I think I might see something." He paused and urged me on with his deep blue eyes. "I got it," I said, snapping my fingers. "It looks like a penis."

Something in Dr. Lightwood's jaw twitched and he eyed me suspiciously. "You're going to keep being difficult, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

"No," I said slowly, lacing my fingers together. "With just a little more effort, I'm going to be impossible."

**A/N- There you have it. Next chapter will be done by Nat (TheFeatherQuill) Yay! Don't forget to review!  
>-Ella<strong>


	2. Aftermath

Hey guys! It's TheFeatherQuill. So yeah I wrote this chapter and hopefully it lives up to the first! Enjoy!  
>Disclaimer- We don't own anything. At all. Except the plot.<p>

Chapter 2

For the next half an hour, my blue eyed psychotherapist constantly bugged me with more pictures of what he called inkblots, asked me to interpret Salvador Dali's _Persistence of Memory_, and made me listen to boring classical music like Vivaldi's _The Four Seasons_. The only thing that was keeping me from yelling at him like I did to every other nutcase was the fact that he was way too damn good looking and innocent. Plus, most people would have been so intimidated by me; they probably wouldn't have wasted so much time on me. But this guy, this Dr. Alexander Lightwood, was so engrossed with trying to get me to talk that he wasn't even paying attention to my intimidating demeanor. Either that or he was just extremely naïve.

He was now making me listen to some piece by a guy named George Handel and I had just about had it.

"Ok seriously, enough with this classical crap. Can't I listen to something like Ke$ha?" I demanded, startling Dr. Lightwood.

I expected him to give me a lecture about how his therapy technique was necessary and that I shouldn't be complaining because he was trying to save my sorry ass. But all he did was stare at me with his wonderful blue orbs and say, "Who's Ke$ha?"

Okay, never mind, he's extremely naïve.

"Ke$ha," I repeat with emphasis. "You know, that one chick that always sings about parties and looks like she's high? Don't tell me you don't know who she is."

He shook his head. "Nope, doesn't ring a bell."

Now it was my turn to stare. "What about Katy Perry?"

He shook his head again.

"Lady Gaga?" I try again. "Adam Lambert? Justin Bieber? Kanye West? Not even Miley Cyrus?"

Dr. Lightwood shook his head at every single name I named.

"Am I supposed to know them?" he asked.

I sat back in my chair and pretended to examine my nails.

"No, they're only just the most popular musicians in the world right now," I said, coating my words with as much sarcasm as I could manage. This guy didn't know a thing about the world and he called himself my therapist.

I yet again expected some lecturing from him about how I shouldn't be so sarcastic and that it wasn't respectful and all, but all he did was stare keenly at me, as if he were trying to figure me out like a puzzle.

I opened my mouth, about to ask him what the hell he was staring at when he leaned back in his chair and said, "Sing a song."

My jaw dropped at his sudden request. "What?" I exclaimed.

He smiled subtly in a way I was beginning to like and repeated, "I want you to sing a song. You can pick whatever song you want. And I don't care if you're good or bad. I just want you to sing."

His voice was so soft and persuasive I could have sworn he was a Siren or something. After realizing it wasn't going to help to argue, I decided to sing _Aftermath _by Adam Lambert. I closed my eyes and let the lyrics flow out of my mouth.

"_Have you lost your way, living in the shadow of the messes that you've made. And so it goes, everything inside your circle starts to overflow. Take a step before you leap, into the colors that you seek. You'll get back what you give away, so don't look back on yesterday."_

I opened my eyes and saw that Dr. Lightwood's eyes were closed. He looked as if he was listening intently and I started to wonder what exactly he was trying to do. I continued,

"_Wanna scream out, no more hiding, don't be afraid of what's inside. Gonna tell ya, you'll be alright, in the aftermath! Anytime anybody pulls you down. Any time anybody says you're not allowed. Just remember, you are not alone in the aftermath."_

I stretch the end of the last word, indicating that that was all I was going to sing when I saw Dr. Lightwood smiling at me. And I realized that I had probably done exactly what he had wanted me to do. But still, his smile annoyed me.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked irritably.

He leaned forward on the desk, his dark hair falling over his ocean eyes. "You do know that you just told me your entire life story and what exactly you're feeling inside," he said with a hint of victory in his voice.

Shit.

"Yeah right," I scoffed. "What makes you think that? I'm not so stupid as to just sing you my life's story."

Now the blue eyed man was grinning. "Mr. Bane, I have a degree in psychology and have worked with enough patients to know when they mean what they're saying," he said. "You've basically just told me that for years of your life you've been constantly put down for various reasons: being bullied or abused or whatever it was. And that even though you've been hurt so much, you still believe that maybe there is some light at the end of the tunnel. That eventually, everything will be okay."

At that moment, I felt extremely angry. He made me so vulnerable that I couldn't even comeback with a snarky comment. And I also hated it when people tried to read me like that, as if they knew everything. But this guy was practically inside my mind. And it was driving me insane.

I fought the urge to get up and leave, knowing that it would hurt Ragnor since he was trying so hard to help me. But I just couldn't take it: sitting here with all my defenses taken down by a single moment. Dr. Lightwood seemed to notice me staring down at my feet and got up from his seat. He walked around his desk and placed a pale, slender hand on my shoulder.

"And I intend to help you find that light at the end of the tunnel," he whispered with such softness that if words were objects, his would be softer than a rose petal.

Involuntarily, I looked up at him, letting my yellow green eyes meet his bright blue. There was something different about this guy. Something I had never seen in anyone else I had ever met. He had figured me out in a moment, but I realized that in the hour I had been given, I still hadn't figured him out.

A knock on the door startled me out of my daze and Dr. Lightwood removed his hand from my shoulder.

"Come in!" he called.

The door opened and in came Ragnor holding the car keys.

"I've come to get Magnus," he said and I leapt out of my seat, silently thanking the universe for his arrival.

Dr. Lightwood smiled. "Yes, we were just about done. It was very nice meeting you Mr. Bane."

He held his hand out but after the whole session, I wasn't ready to show him anymore kindness just yet. I didn't want to admit it, but I was more embarrassed than I was rebelling. Realizing I wasn't going to shake his hand, he awkwardly placed it back in his pocket.

"Well then, we'll be off. Thank you so much for your time Dr. Lightwood," replied Ragnor.

"It was my pleasure," said Dr. Lightwood. "Oh and Magnus, next time, I want you to wear the outfit you like to wear the most. The thing you feel the most comfortable with, got me?"

Ragnor cleared his throat and glanced at me. "Um, Dr. Lightwood, I'm not sure if there will be a next time."

The blue eyed psychiatrist simply smiled and looked at me. "Oh, I'm sure there will, right Magnus?"

I nodded and Ragnor looked at me in surprise, though I ignored him. I just needed to figure this Lightwood guy out and fast, before he could get inside my head even more.

So there you have it! Let us know what you think! *hint hint review hint* The next chapter will be written by Jessica ()


	3. We're SORRY!

Hey! this is jess. im sorry to say this isnt a chapter. i know i hate these things too. I am writing chap three for all u lovlies but i cant type it up and send it to the lovley ella to post right now. I am dealing with a broken heart rite now and as u guys know i can only write and post at skool... well u know now! be sure to review and read my other story Will you?. and plz plz plz review. they make me happy. if u wanna swap broken heart stories wanna give me advice or just wanna chat Pm me. okay again im sorry i havent gotten it uo but ill TRY to get it out sometime nxt week. WE love u all!


End file.
